Puss in Boots
by FireSmiley
Summary: "You managed to get yourself thrown out of all schools in Portland. But I'm giving you one last chance: the Von Hamlin Institute. Get yourself thrown out of there – I won't be there to save you" - Cat would have enough problems even without falling for Roddy. And things don't improve when he gets framed. Will Cat, the cat, be able to help him? - Set during Danse Marcabre.
1. Cat Chow

**Hey everyone! Welcome to my Grimm fic. Hope you enjoy it! - Just so you know, the words in ****_italics_**** are Cat's thouhgts.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own GRIMM!**

**Puss in Boots**

**Cat Chow**

_Why the heck am I sitting in one of those creepy interrogation rooms at a smelly police station in Portland with a pretty dumb-looking Asian officer trying to stare me down? It's because you're stupid, because you got caught. For stealing aspirin. From the principal's desk._

I ignore the sergeant's piercing stare and continue to inspect my fingernails. Not that they need it – they're all enameled a perfect hue of bright orange – but being a cat, you never stop grooming.

Just then the door opens and a new officer walks in. He looks a lot smarter than first one and smells strongly of… Grimm! _Oh, fuck!_ I fall over backwards with my chair, trying too quickly to get away. "What d' you want" I hiss, my face changing rapidly into the dark furry form only the Grimm can see.

"Catalina Ramos, you can leave" the Grimm says without even the slightest notion of my changed appearance. I narrow my eyes, the panic ebbing away. "And why is that?" I spit, still suspicious. "Your uncle, a certain–" he breaks off checking his papers "–Don Tomas, paid the bail for you. Actually" he pauses again. _The nerve of him!_ "He's waiting for you outside in the car"

At this my heart sinks. Now, usually you'd think I would be glad to get outta this, but, let's just say I'd rather face ten Grimms than my single uncle Don Tomas. We just don't mix well. Never did actually. He just can't get over the fact that I'm half Klaustreich.

Five minutes later however Sergeant Wu has deposited me in the back of Don Tomas's black BMW SUV. "How'd you manage it this time?" I think I hear a note of desperation in my uncle's voice. Not a good sign. For desperate cat's – or rather Balams – make hard opponents. "Stole aspirin from the old witch" I reply coldly. Compared to what I did at my last school, this sounds like peanuts. The man on the front seat sighs deeply, "You can't just steal from your principal just because she's a Hexenbiest"

"I didn't steal from her because she's a Hexenbiest. I stole it 'cause I had a headache" – _and because she's a witch_, I silently add in my head, but he doesn't need to know that. Tomas on the other hand stays calm and mutters (more to himself than to me), "I knew your mother made a mistake when she married that Klaustreich. Now see what we've got…" I would have snapped at this, except he doesn't give me the chance. He continues in a louder voice and a stern tone, I know not to cross.

"You managed to get yourself thrown out of all schools in Portland. All of them! But I'm giving you one last chance and if you screw it up, you're going back to Mexico and work in the sugar mill!" I freeze. The sugar mill is the last thing I want. I'd be cat chow there in less than a week. But on the other hand I knew it had to happen sooner or later. Don Tomas doesn't like me (or rather the part of me that's Klaustreich). It's only his Balam instinct to help his family. However, my uncle, unfazed of my terror, continues in his iciest voice, "There's only one last school in Portland: the Von Hamlin Institute for fine arts. Get yourself thrown out of there – I won't be there to save you"

Well, it could have been worse. Though probably not much. An institute for fine arts? How does he expect me to do that? I can't sing, I can't play an instrument (unless you count the panpipes), I can't even read notes, when it comes to that. I'm fairly good at dancing, though I'm not sure if that'll be of any use. Von Hamlin… sounds like lots of music if you ask me.

Don Tomas drops me off in front of a huge brick building with a green and red banner above the entrance. I scowl. If you ask me, this looks more like a prison-version of Hogwarts than anything else.

In the office the principal awaits me. A stern-looking black woman by the name of Clark. She gives me a talking-to the moment I enter the room. _Great. Another one of those stuck-ups_. "Catalina Ramos. I see you got thrown out of _several_ schools" She stressed the word several way too much for my liking. "As you'll soon find out, there's a strict discipline around here" _Fantastic. Now, I won't have any issues with that, of course_. "The only way to become a good musician is discipline" _Only I don't plan on becoming a musician_. She makes another pause, looking me straight in the eye, "What is your instrument, Miss Ramos?" I try to keep my face stony 'cause I know she's not gonna like the answer at all "Pan's pipe" The principal frowns at me. "Well, that's inappropriate. But it'll do until you learn something else." _What the… What's inappropriate about panpipes?!_ I want to spit in her face, but don't when I remember the sugar mill. No need to screw it just now. "You'll live in one of the student apartments on campus. Your stuff's already been moved there. You're dismissed"

_Wow. That was better than I'd expected. No yelling, no detention… haven't had that in a while. I'm kinda starting to miss it._

I decide to take a look at my new room first. Speaking of my new room… where is it? The principal never mentioned it. _Typical. Very disciplined_. I look at the key she handed me. It says A-305. Whatever that's supposed to mean? Hanging round's no good though. People might think I'm up to something. So, with no better plan on hands, I decide to just ask someone. Only problem: no one's around.

However, music's sounding through the door to my left. Classic music. Not my style at all.

I knock once, and then enter. As it turns out, not a very smart idea. The music stops at once and I realize I must have walked into some kind of rehearsal. Everyone stares. _Not good_. "What are you doing?" that's the teacher speaking, a middle-aged man with ashen hair and beard. "Don't you see we're rehearsing?"

"Well, I see it now" I reply rather bluntly. Someone at the back of the class laughs. The teacher on the other hand seems not amused. His face is reddening by the minute. "Who are you, girl?" he asks. "Catalina Ramos, I'm new" This does not have the soothing effect I'd expected. "Well, anyway" I continue before anyone can stop me, "I was just wondering if anyone can tell me where A-305 is."

"It's the next building, third floor, fifth room" someone at the back of the class calls, indicating the direction with the bow his violin. "Thanks" I say and turn to leave. "Wait, wait, wait, not so fast!" _Oh gosh, here we go again_. "You, Miss Ramos" The teacher points a finger at me "will get detention for interrupting this class!"

"Oh come on Mr." I turn to see the sign next to the door "Dr. Lawson. I'm new" Apparently Dr. Lawson doesn't give a damn if I'm new because all he says is, "Five o'clock in the math room" I stare at him "And where the heck is that?" I bluff at him with probably a little more attitude than's appropriate. "Just upstairs, first door to the left" It's the kid with the violin again. "Thanks again" I say, turning on my heel before Dr. Lawson can give me anymore detention. "You might as well join her Mr. Geiger!" I hear him yell, just as the door falls closed behind me.

_Oh. My. God. If it goes on like this, I'll really end up as cat chow in the sugar mill._


	2. Really Close

**Hi everyone! Thank you so much for the nice reviews! I'm so glad you like it :D**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own GRIMM!**

**Puss In Boots**

**Really Close**

At exactly five o'clock that same afternoon I stand in front of room C-100-Math. _Oh hell, I shouldn't have thought about missing detention_… Taking a deep breath I knock and enter. It's a comparatively small room with lots of charts and graphs pinned to the walls. A teacher wearing round glasses and a bow tie is sitting at the front. "Welcome to detention" he says with an air of great delight. For a moment I'm not sure if he's joking. "I'm Dr. Carpenter. And you'll surely be…" he scans the list of students in front of him, "Catalina Ramos. Please take a seat"

Save for me and the teacher there's no one in the room so I decide for a chair at the far right in the back half of the room. Carpenter soon disappears behind a copy of SIENCE WEEKLY and leaves me to do nothing. _Great. This is gonna be fun_.

Five minutes pass and nothing happens. I've never been one of the still sort of people. Sitting like this drives me crazy "Excuse me, Dr. Carpenter, how long exactly are we gonna stay here?" He looks up from his magazine "90 minutes. But we're still waiting for the other kid on detention, Roddy Geiger"

Right on cue, Roddy Geiger himself bursts through the door. _Well, so much for knocking_. Roddy Geiger's about my age, with black curly hair and VERY blue eyes. He's built quite nicely and dressed all in black. Or – to say it with one word – he's hot. On closer inspection I realize, he's the kid from rehearsal, giving me directions.

"Well, hello Mr. Geiger! How nice of you to show up. Please take a seat" drawls Dr. Carpenter before disappearing once again behind his copy of SIENCE WEEKLY. I give Roddy a wave to come over to me. "Thanks for earlier!" I mouth quietly and he nods.

I can't help it. He's just too attractive not to use the chance. I wink at him. For a split second, he looks startled, but then a sly grin spreads over his face and he winks back. _Score! Big time!_

We're sitting in silence for a while: Dr. Carpenter reading his magazine, Roddy staring a hole into the blackboard, and me checking out Roddy. The more I look at him, the more I think he's hot. That must be my overflowing Kaustreich hormones though. At least that's what I hope.

After ten minutes or so Dr. Carpenter all of a sudden slaps down his magazine on the table and says, "Guys, I'm getting bored of this. I'm leaving. Try not to set anything on fire while I'm gone" and with that he's gone. Locking the door. _So much for discipline, I say_.

"Wow, that was weird" I state staring at the door after him. Roddy shakes his head, "Nope, he does that every time. Pretty much the coolest teacher 'round here"

"Well, if that's the coolest one, I don't really wanna meet the others!" I say somewhat sarcastically. Roddy laughs, "Yeah, well, it doesn't get much worse than Lawson. Must've been a shock for you" Not really, I've had far worse teachers than Lawson, but I'm not about to tell Roddy that, so I just shrug and say, "Well, could've been worse. At least I found my room – after getting lost twice – but thanks again"

He smiles again, "No prob, Catalina. It's Catalina, right?" I scowl. No one but my uncle Don Tomas actually calls me Catalina. "It is. Just call me Cat though" I say, "Everyone does" I throw back my black curls in very much the way a movie star would do. Roddy frowns slightly, "cat – that's an interesting name" for a moment I think I see his nose quiver, like he was sniffing something. _Weird_. Now, you'll probably say, that should have ticked me off in the first place, but, being in a music school, I kinda expected people to be weird.

Just then there's a mechanic sort of clicking and the air conditioner dies. _Great. Now it's gonna start boiling in here_. "Oh come on, seriously?" I wail. "Yep, absolutely" Roddy answers, "It's been off ever since term started. But don't worry, it'll turn back on soon enough" I sincerely hope so. 'Cause if there's one thing – apart from principals – that I can't stand, it's the heat.

Roddy doesn't seem to mind though, because he goes on talking as if nothing had happened, "Anyways, what's your instrument?" _Gosh, if one more person asks me that today, I'll freak out! _"None actually. The only thing I can play are the panpipes, but Mrs. Clark wasn't too happy about that" He stares at me, "What? Then how'd you get into this school? I mean, no offence, but aren't instruments kinda the point of a music school?"

"Well" I draw out the word to almost three times its natural length, giving me time to think, "I kinda got thrown out of all other schools in Portland since we came here 'bout a year ago, and my uncle's paying the full tuition, so, they kinda have to take me" More staring. He scowls for a second at the words 'full tuition' but doesn't dwell on it either. Thank God. My uncle's business isn't exactly what you'd call legal.

"How'd you manage to get thrown outta so many schools?" Quite different from my uncle, Roddy sounds almost admiring. I like it. That's exactly the way that question should be asked. All the same, I don't really know what to answer, "Uhm, it's kind of a long story, involving several broken locks and a dead ferret" More staring. "You'd rather not know the details" I assure him.

By that time the room's almost unbearably hot. I'm fanning my face with one hand and holding back my hair with the other. "Gosh, I'm melting. Can we have a window open?" Without even waiting for an answer, I get up and walk over to one of the windows. "Want some help? The windows are kinda tricky" I can literally hear the smirk in his voice, but shake my head, "No worries, I'll figure it out" As it turns out two seconds later, I don't. There's no knob or handle or anything, and the bright sunlight shining through the window doesn't make it any easier either. I'm a cat – what d' you expect? – I can see well at night; as for bright daylight, it's killing me off. I rattle at the window frame trying to make it open. Of course it doesn't. _Great. This is not working the way I want it to at all. _

All of a sudden Roddy's behind me. Close behind me. Really close. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck. Despite the heat, it makes me shiver. He puts a hand on the window frame and, magically, slides it open. _What the hell? Why didn't I think of that?_ "See, told you those were tricky" he says in a somewhat mocking sort of tone.

I turn around. _God, he really is close!_ I'm looking straight into his bright blue eyes. _Gosh, those eyes… _It takes all my force of mind not to melt away immediately. _How can anyone have such black hair and yet such blue eyes, ey?_ I give my head a little shake to clear it and, trying not to show my confusion too much, I say, "I would have figured it out" He grins, "Sure you would, sooner or later. But by that time, we'd probably be grilled"

He takes a step forward cornering me against the wall. I don't back down though. It's just not the way I do things. So, instead of shrinking back, I also step forward. Our chests are nearly touching, but he holds his ground not dropping his gaze. _Too bad_. "Well, that's what you think" I say defiantly, trying to stare him down – and obviously failing pretty badly next to those gorgeous blue eyes.

Our faces are only inches apart now. Despite the cool breeze from the window I can feel my shin heating up. For some reason I feel the mad urge to bury my hands in Roddy's black hair and pull him down to kiss me. Right then and there.

We're still getting closer until our lips are nearly touching. He wraps an arm around my waist and…

That's when it happens. I woge. Now, this has happened to me before while kissing – or any other time I get emotionally excited – but it usually never mattered. My other dates, having all been entirely human, never saw that black furry cat face of mine. Roddy on the other hand jumps back and – woging at the same time – calls out, "You're a cat!" There's a note of terror in his voice as his face changes into a rodent-like shape. I instantly catch the smell: Rat.

For a moment we both stare. Then we run. Him probably because he's afraid of being eaten. Me because, well, you'd run too if the guy you'd been about to kiss turned out to be a rat. I don't know about him, but for me, I jump straight out of the window – yes, cats do land on their paws – and run.


	3. The Retched Cat

**Hi everyone! Here goes the third chapter :D now, I've heard that apparently there are some grammar mistakes in this story. If so, please excuse me, because I'm actually not a native speaker. And if something really bugs you, you can just PM me and I will correct it. Alright, now Read and enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own GRIMM!**

**Puss in Boots**

**The Retched Cat**

By the time I get back to my senses, I'm sitting on the roof of an old and rather shabby building down by the river. Things like these sometimes happen to me. When I'm in "cat-mode" I kinda tend to climb up rooftops. I tell you, it's not popular with the police!

It's rather late already and the sun's sinking behind the mountains. _How long was I out? Two hours? Maybe three? Oh well, guess I'll miss dinner at Von Hamlin._ _Oh, who cares anyway?! It's Friday!_

I can hear music from somewhere below me. Not classic music like the one at school, but loud house music. Much more my style. _Where the hell does that come from though? _Before I can investigate though, my cell phone starts vibrating in my pocket. Perfect timing. I check the text I got, "DJ RETCHID KAT IN THE WAREHOUSE ON FRONT STREET!" Now, wait a sec. I'm on Front Street. And I'm sitting on the roof of the warehouse… _Oh. Well, that explains the music of course_.

I sit back against the chimney and consider this for a moment. It's Friday, so no school tomorrow. Portland's most famous raver is playing in the warehouse right underneath me. And I DEFINITELY need some time out from that freak school.

Quick as a squirrel I climb down from the roof and enter the warehouse. The music's louder here, but I can't see anyone around. _Weird. There were cars parked outside. Where is everyone?_ Following the sound of The Black Eyed Peas' 'I Gotta Feeling', I reach a small set of stairs leading down into the basement. _Seriously, whoever put on this rave really knows his business!_ Even though it's comparatively early, the basement's already crammed with dancing people. Neon colored flashlights and disco fog make it kinda hard to navigate through the crowd, still I decide to just screw it and start dancing.

One thought keeps nagging at the back of my mind though. Roddy. Now, if you ask me, he WAY overreacted (I probably did too, but that's different). And I'm kinda mad he thinks I'd eat him. Not that I would. At least not in public anyways. My aunt Juana did that once and… Well, that's another story. Let's just say it was not pretty. Urgh.

What's worse than his reaction though is the fact that I can't seem to get him outta my brain ('cause that's certainly what would be best for both of us). But I can't. No matter how hard I try. Roddy: black hair, blue eyes, perfect build… _Gosh, I need to stop this!_

Nevertheless DJ Retchid Kat's already started playing, and I do have a great time. Nothing's better than a good, illegal rave after a hard day. After a few hours (and I'm talking like about tree) I'm freaking tired, though. I decide that no DJ is worth a hangover and dark shadows underneath my eyes, so I slip away from the dancing crowd. I climb up one of the pillars sustaining the building and sit down on a beam just above the DJ. (_No, I'm not afraid of falling and yes, the beams are strong enough to hold a hundred pounds_). His pink cat head is bobbing to the beat of the drums and the crowds are cheering him on. That guy truly knows what he's doing.

When he punches a fist into the air though, something weird happens (just to be clear on this, I don't mean the funny kind of weird, but the scary kind of weird): I see his arm woge, and just for a split second I think I smell rat. And not just any rat, but… Roddy.

I almost fall off the beam. Clinging on for dear life, I stare. _This can't be real, can it? DJ Retchid Kat's not Roddy, that's impossible! _He must be somewhere else in the crowd. Yet no matter how much I crane my neck, I can't spot him anywhere. I give the disc jockey another, rather suspicious, look. _Come to think of it, he IS dressed all in black_. But a reinigen – especially one with such a strong fear of cats – would not call himself DJ Retchid Kat, would they?

There's only one way to find out though. I need to see what's underneath that ugly pink cat's head. And indeed, I'm lucky because that very moment the DJ calls it a night and leaves, followed by an older guy in an adidas jacket. Presumably the one who put on the rave. The crowd wails and moans but neither of them returns.

In moments like these being half Balam does come in handy. I jump swiftly from one beam to another following the two people into the DJ booth. "Great job, boy, you killed it! They love you!" says the man in the adidas jacket. (Just for the record: I'm of very much the same opinion.) The guy underneath the pink head on the other hand merely grunts, "I bet if they knew who I was, they wouldn't" Mr. expensive-sports-jacket waves the comment away with a swish of his hand. "Who cares? They do now" he says with an air of I-could-not-care-less, boy. The DJ shakes his great cat head at him, "You're such an ass, Sammy. You really are" And then takes his head off.

I gasp. I mean, I suspected it, but still… Roddy, Portland's most famous raver! This just cannot be true!

And that is precisely the moment when I freak out. I jump down from the beam and run. Not in cat mode this time though. Just normal person-run. And I don't stop until I reach my room (which by the way takes me three tries to find).


	4. Litter Boxes

**Hi everyone! Sorry it took a little longer than usual, but I'm kinda busy with studying at the moment. That's also why I'm probably not gonna update in a while (don't worry I aready got it written out). You could just follow, so you don't miss the next chapter ;) So... read and enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own GRIMM!**

**Puss in Boots**

**Litter boxes**

The next thing I know is a shrill ringing piercing my ears. I wake up at with a start and fall right out of bed. _Crap! I totally forgot about that alarm clock!_ Rubbing my eyes, I look around. Everything's the same as yesterday, except… _Oh shit!_ The desk and closet both look like they had a rather ruff encounter with a tiger (which technically they had). The wood is all scratched up. _Man, that's gonna take a lot of explaining… Oh hell, no one needs to know about it any time soon anyway_. Or even better, they don't need to know about it at all.

Heaving a sigh I decide that nothing good ever comes out of an empty stomach and that I need to have breakfast first of all. Not at the school though. The thought of Dr. Lawson at the next table is just unbearable. There's a Starbucks on the other side of the street though.

When I leave my room I find, there's a surprising number of people at this school even on Saturdays. But then of course lots of them live on campus, like me. A couple o' minutes later I reach Starbucks – which is crammed with Von Hamlin students – and buy myself a hot chocolate (which by the way is WAY overpriced).

As I stand waiting for it to be ready, I hear someone whistle at me from behind, "Ooh, look at that! That is one sexy Hispanic butt!" _Oh please, what kind of pickup line is that?! And why does this guy think my nationality is connected to my ass?_

I turn to look at the guy admiring my butt in such a loud voice. He's a good head taller than me (which is not hard 'cause I'm only 5'4"), blond and wearing a hat. Usually I would think him an attractive guy, but the comment about my butt combined with the smirk on his face and the fact that two of his friends are standing behind him like bodyguards… Let's say I'm just not feeling it.

I raise my eyebrows and give him a do-you-think-you're-cool-now?-look. "Do I know you?" I ask coldly. Apparently this is not the reaction he expected, because his smirk wavers a little and he adds, "I'm Carter. I play the second violin in the orchestra" it gets him a blank look. "So?" I ask. _Seriously, I don't give a fuck what he plays or where_. Since this didn't work either, he frowns "Alright, I see it now. You're _that_ kind of girl. Lots of boobs, no brains."

For a moment I stare at him, rooted to the spot. _Did he really just say that?! _I mean, I might have a lot of flaws, but I'm definitely not dumb. And I won't be called dumb either. Slowly I draw myself up to full height. "Do you really think that?" I ask, giving him one last chance to back down. "Shouldn't I?" Carter asks in return. I smile at him in the most charming, deadly sort of way. "Well, let's just say you should think about it twice next time" and with that I take the coffee he's holding from his hands and splash it right into his face. _No need to waste my own drink on a jerk like that_.

I leave Starbucks before anyone can stop me. Maybe I shouldn't be proud of this. But the look on Carter's face is just epic. And quite apart from that, splashing coffee into people's faces is kinda my specialty. It's partly why I got thrown out of my first school here in Portland. _Oh, what a sweet memory_…

Strolling lazily back to school that afternoon, I start wondering what to do next. There's not a lot to do on a Saturday when you live in a school, you know. I'm considering taking a walk round campus so I can find my classes on Monday when something – or rather someone – puts an end to my plan. Roddy. Again.

Instantly my mind flashes back to the meeting in the math room. His gorgeous, bright blue eyes. The almost-kiss. The terror on his face when he saw I was a cat. My own stupid reaction to jump out of the window. And again his eyes.

I don't know what it is about those eyes but I just can't resist 'em. And the fact that he still thinks I'd eat him is kinda putting me on edge. _What does he think? Just because I'm a cat doesn't mean I live off mice meat!_

Without thinking twice about it I decide to talk to him. It can't hurt, can it?

He's walking about 20 yards away with his back turned on me. "Ey, Roddy!" I call out cheerily. He turns, sees me, and keeps walking. _What the…? _"Roddy!" I call out again less cheery this time. At this, he starts jogging, as if trying to get away from me. _That son of a bitch! What does he think I'm gonna do to him?!_ "Ey, rat boy!" this time my voice is sharp and somewhat like a hiss.

A few people around me laugh. They're all Von Hamlin students. I shoot them dangerous glares. This is none of their business, so they'd better stay out of it!

However my sharp voice has the effect I wanted. Roddy stops in his tracks and turns. His jaw is clenched, the blue eyes sparkling. _Oh god, I think I hit a nerve there_.

I jog up to him. "Don't ever call me rat boy!" he says through gritted teeth as soon as I reach him. I grin at him, in what I hope is a winning sort of way. "I won't unless you keep running away from me" I say with as much charm as possible. His eyes are still sparkling, but his expression's softened a little, "Well, what was I supposed to do? You're a cat!"

"And not just that!" I puff out my chest "I'm half and half. Klaustreich and Balam" I'm probably the only Wesen in the world who would be proud of that, but for some reason I am. Call me crazy.

Roddy on the other had seems more alarmed about this than anything else. His expression says quite clearly "Oh. My. God. I. Am. Screwed" I feel a little insulted at this. Why does everyone in this world think I'm bad?

"I promise I won't eat you!" I can see his expression softening up. _Thank God for that natural Klaustreich charm of mine!_

But then… "How do I know you're not kidding me, waiting for a chance to pounce? I saw you talking to Carter. You probably just wanna get in with the rich kids" At this I lose control. One stupid guy a day is enough "What?! Do you really think I'd do that? Are you seriously so dense? Do you actually think I live of rats just because I'm a cat?" My voice rises well above ordinary speaking level and people around us start to stare. Not good. After all, normal people aren't supposed to know about Wesen. "Uhm, Cat? Maybe we should discuss this somewhere more private…" Roddy's words have as good as no effect on me.

I can't help it though. Once my temper gets the better of me, there's no way back. My voice is loud enough for everyone in the street to hear now, "I care about that guy about as much as I care about dirty litter boxes! Hell knows I just splashed hot coffee into face!" At this Roddy's expression changes completely, but I'm too angry to even notice. "You" I punch a finger into his chest to stress my words. "You are such a hypocrite, Roddy Geiger! You run when you see a cat, but still call yourself DJ–"

I break off instantly as Roddy does the only effective thing to shut me up: He kisses me. Right onto my lips. For a split second, I'm paralyzed, but then I kiss him back. He wraps his arms around my waist just as I bury my fingers in his black curls. One of his hands starts wandering downwards from my hip and I can't suppress a little giddy feeling inside my stomach.

A moment too soon we pull apart in order to breath. "Wow!" is all I manage.

I dare say I kissed quite a few guys in my life, yet this kiss was the best so far. Roddy smirks at me, as if he knows what I'm thinking. And yet… "Where the hell did that change o' mind come from though?" I ask suspiciously. "You had me at litter boxes" He says.


	5. Best Excuse Ever

**Hi everyone! Finally the next chpater! Sorry it took so Long ;) I'm still caught up in studying though - wish me luck with the exams :D**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own GRIMM!**

**Puss in Boots**

**Best. Excuse. Ever.**

I stare at him "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Roddy shrugs, "Everyone who splashes hot coffee into Carter's face deserves a kiss" I purse my lips "Just one?" He doesn't get the chance to answer 'cause my lips are already back on his. And he's not running away either this time.

This time it's Roddy's turn to wow though. I smile wickedly, "Good thing you don't like Carter!" Roddy still seams dazed, "And good thing you like coffee" he murmurs into my black hair. And then, "You smell like oranges" For some reason he seems surprised about this. _Honestly, has he never met a gal who uses hairspray?_

Apparently Roddy likes oranges though, 'cause his grip is tightening and I think I feel claws through my leather jacket. We're entering the danger zone, but then again, that's where I spent most of my life anyway.

I push him away "Don't push it, Don Juan! I still remember you ran away from me" It is true. And I'm still kinda mad about it. And, quite apart from that, I'm not gonna make it _that_ easy for him.

I turn to leave but stop almost immediately. I planned on going back to my apartment, but unfortunately I have no idea where to find it. _Oh my god, this is so embarrassing_. "Could you…" I trail off, 'cause the question I'm about to ask really makes me sound stupid. "Could you by any chance walk me back to my apartment? I still get lost on this retched campus" _So much for not making it too easy_…

Roddy on the other hand just scoffs, "You serious? You still can't find your room?" I sigh deeply, trying to keep my temper from rising "I know I'm almost as dumb as a beanless burrito, but could you still help me, please?" He laughs. "I didn't mean it like that" I'm glad he didn't, 'cause I'm pretty sure my already stretched nerves wouldn't take another insult today.

I follow Roddy, trying desperately to memorize the way. _Gosh, the Mirror Maze in San Francisco is nothing against this school!_ It takes us almost five minutes to reach the building I live in and I'm starting to wonder how big the grounds actually are. _Maybe they sell maps somewhere_…

Roddy stops in front of the door and asks, "You can find the third floor on your own, don't you?" I look at him innocently "I guess I would" There's no way I can resist the temptation. He's just too darn hot. "But you can walk me upstairs all the same" He smirks, "Guess I could" he answers.

When we reach the door to my room on the third floor there's an awkward silence. "I would invite you inside, but the walls are kinda thin, so…" I trail off letting him finish the sentence for himself. He raises his eyebrows at me and I smirk. _Hey, it's not my fault if he looks at it the dirty way_.

There's another silence, less awkward though this time. "Well, guess I see at the class meeting then" I jump as if someone had just pinched me in the back. "Class meeting?" I cry out "Why does no one ever tell me about stuff like that?!" Seriously, all this talk about discipline seems more and more hypocrite by the minute.

I take another deep breath, trying not to explode. "When is this supposed to happen anyway?" I ask Roddy. "At seven" He looks at his watch "So actually now" I close my eyes in resent. _Why does this always happen to me?_

I skid to a halt in front of Lawson's classroom. "Come on Roddy! Gotta a move on!" I call out. He reaches the door panting. Shaking his head, he says "No fair. You woged!" I roll my eyes at him. _This is not a race, rat boy. It's life_. And I can't risk getting thrown outta this school.

"Ready?" I ask, but don't wait for an answer. I push the door open without knocking. Lawson's gonna pissed anyway. No matter what I do.

As it turns out though he isn't. Actually he isn't even there. _Very disciplined_. Instead, the whole Junior class is milling round the auditorium. I smile confidently. _No teacher, no rules, no problems_…

There aren't a lot a lot of seats left, so I pull Roddy to the back of the room. When we're about halfway down the aisle in the middle of the room there's a cold laugh behind me. I turn to see… Carter. _Oh great. Him of all people_…

Carter's eyes are sparkling maliciously. "Look who's there. Rat boy and his dumbass girlfriend" he drawls. My nose twitches. It always does when I'm angry. Roddy beats me to the beating though. He's upon Carter before I can do so much as move. He grabs him by the collar of his shirt and…

"Mr. Geiger! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" _Oh shit. This is bad_. Dr. Lawson is standing right behind me.

Roddy and Carter both freeze. If we were on a TV show, this would actually be funny. But we're not. And this is freakin' serious. While the look of anger on Roddy's face is replaced by something like resent, Carter actually starts smirking. _Oh, oh_. It's always a bad sign when the enemy starts smirkin'. And I bet my whiskers Carter knows the teacher's on his side.

"So?" Lawson snaps at the two guys. Roddy lets go of Carter's collar as if he had just burned himself. _Great. That doesn't look suspicious at all_. And the sullen look on his face is not exactly helping either. The idiot doesn't even try to hide his anger. If he doesn't get a grip on himself soon, he's gonna get himself into serious trouble. "Well, Mr. Geiger, if you haven't got an explanation for this…"

"It's really not what it looks like, professor" The words leave my mouth before I can stop 'em. Lawson rounds on me. _Oh, shit. Now I'm gonna get into trouble too_. "Really Miss Ramos? Because it looks like Mr. Geiger is just about to get suspended for fighting" _I swear, if I ever get to choose the cast for a movie, Lawson's gonna play the devil!_ "Well, Miss Ramos, What's your explanation then? And it'd better be a good one, or else you can join Mr. Geiger on his suspension!" I gulp. _Now what?_ But I control my panic and speak in a firm voice instead, "All I can say is, they weren't fighting. They were rehearsing" This seems to startle Lawson. Probably some kind of tic you get as music teacher, when you hear the word "rehearsing".

"Rehearsing?" he repeats, "Rerhearsing for what?" That is indeed a good question. And I have no clue how to answer it. My eyes dart around the room looking for something to help me. Then my gaze falls onto a poster pinned to the wall. It shows a mask and the words underneath it read "Theater Club: Romeo & Juliet" My face lights up instantly. "They were rehearsing for theater club! You know, Carter's playing the Mercutio and Roddy is about to kill him"

There's a blank look on Lawson's face and my chest is swelling with pride. I'm not full of myself, but I know, we've won now. "Well, in that case… Please take your seats everyone. But don't think you're out of this Mr. Geiger. I'm still gonna have a close eye on you. On you too Miss Ramos!"

Even this grave announcement can't lessen my good mood. As I pull a face at Carter, it comes to me that this has to be the best excuse ever. Even better than when I made a teacher believe a dog had eaten my homework.


	6. Toothless Lizard

**Finally the next chapter! Tell me what you think of it! Hope you enjoy!**

**DICLAIMER: I do not own GRIMM!**

**Puss in Boots**

**Toothless Lizard**

The class meeting is all about a concert that's supposed to happen in a week. They're gonna play Danse Marcabre by some French guy. _Honestly, doesn't anyone but me like house and rock music?_

I'm sitting next to Roddy in the second from last row. Snogging row, as my dad used to call it. That's not what we're doing though. Not that I wouldn't want to, but Roddy's actually paying attention. _Too bad_. After a while I get bored and start inspecting my fingernails again. I lean my head against Roddy's shoulder and close my eyes.

I must have dozed off right away, 'cause I have no memory at all from the rest of the meeting at all. I decide to go to bed as soon as Roddy wakes me up. I peck him on the cheek and go to my room (which I find on first try just for once in my life).

Monday morning. First day of school. Getting up at 6:30 in the morning. _Groan_. I hate this. Getting up early, I mean. Isn't a cat supposed to be asleep most of the day? I check my schedule. Math, Dr. Carpenter. _Great_. I sigh trying to remember that he's supposed to be the coolest teacher round here.

As it turns out math isn't even too bad. Nor is history. Except I feel like a habanero chili in a bowl of mixed nuts. Everyone's so well-behaved and studious round here, it's almost unnatural. But right before lunch I have English. With Roddy – which is good – and Carter and his friends Marvin and Tray – which is bad.

Mrs. Ciabatta, the teacher, introduces the book we're gonna read (it's called "The Help") and asks if anyone's got questions. Sure enough, Carter puts up his hand and says, "Just one: how come _she_ is in our class? I mean this is supposed to be AP, isn't it?" He motions at me over his shoulder without even turning round.

My nose twitches. I know I shouldn't argue back just now, but I can't suppress it either. "You know Carter" I say in a loud voice for everyone to hear, "I think my guidance counselor figured they needed someone to lift the average IQ in this class back to AP level. You know, to make up for you being brainless" A few people around me giggle. And I smile confidently. _That's what you get when you mess with Catalina Ramos_.

The rest of the class passes rather uneventful. Mrs. Ciabatta makes us read the first three chapters of our new book (which actually isn't bad) and then announces a quiz for the next lesson. _Great. Now, we'll be looking forward to that of course_.

Fortunately the bell saves us from homework. As soon as it rings everyone storms out of the classroom. Nobody wants to spend any more time with Mrs. Ciabatta than necessary.

"Want me to buy you lunch?" Roddy asks. I beam "Always!" There's nothing better than buying me food to make me happy. Now, you might think that's kinda selfish of me, but that's just the way I am.

So, while Roddy gets us lunch, I look for a place to sit down. I spot a nice table right outside on the lawn. I throw my backpack onto it and drop down heavily onto the bench. Lunch is definitely my favorite part of school.

I don't really get the chance to enjoy it though 'cause the next moment Carter slams down his palms on the table. "This is our table!" he growls. I am so not impressed. _Honestly, does he really think he can scare me?_ Well, he doesn't. And so I say, "Hate to break the news to ya, but it's my table now." I can literally see the muscles on Carter's jaw tensing. But it only makes it more fun to tease him. "What?" I ask in a teasingly slow drawl. "You can still sit on the ground" I smirk. I know he's gonna crack sooner or later. It's only a matter of time.

But apparently Carter's smarter than I'd expected. A forced smile is spreading on his face and he says, "There's still another possibility" I keep my face expressionless even though the look in his eyes pretty much freaks me out. I don't see what he means and I get the feeling, I don't really want to either.

He rises his hand to my face tilting my chin upwards a little, "You know, I still like your ass…" Our faces are way to close together. I can even smell his aftershave (something he should definitely get rid of). "We could be the perfect high school couple. I'm the top musician and you're the hot gal…" he continuous in a softer voice which I guess, he thinks, is seductive. _Well, he's failing pretty badly there_… "All you need to do is, get rid of rat boy!"

I jerk away from him immediately. This is so disgusting; it makes me want to throw up. "I'd rather kiss a toothless lizard with a poisonous tongue than be with you!" I hiss, "You're disgusting!"

Instantly, the expression on his face changes. He grabs me by the collar of my leather jacket, literally lifting me off the ground. _Whoa, I thought that only happened in cartoons!_ "Take that back!" he snarls.

I scoff, "Never!" Ever. In my whole life. I don't take things back. It's just not how I rule.

Carter raises his eyebrows at me. "You want to get yourself into trouble, girl?" he says in a dangerously clam tone. I shrug. It's not like I'm looking for trouble. It's just that trouble usually finds me first anyway.

"You stupid little bitch!" Carter yells, pushing me back with such force, I fall right over. I hit the ground hard. "Ouch! That hurt, you idiot!" I shout. Now, I'm not the one who picks a fight, but that doesn't mean, I won't participate in one either.

I'm back on my feet in less than a second. And less than a minute I scratch up Carter's chest, hit Tray in the stomach, and scare off Marvin running for help. _That wimp_. _My six year old cousin Marta could beat him up_.

My glee doesn't last though. "Miss Ramos! What the hell is going on here?" I freeze on the spot. _Oh carp!_ Lawson's face is bright red with anger. _This is gonna be so hella bad!_

"We go attacked, Sir" moans Tray, who's still lying on the ground. "By whom?" Lawson seems almost surprised by this, as if he thinks a girl of my size wouldn't be able to take on three guys. _Honestly, I might be short for a cat, but I'm still strong. And a cat_.

But unfortunately he gets a grip on himself almost immediately. "Who did this?" He asks again. Carter slowly raises his hand to point at me. _Oh hell, now I'm gonna get kicked out. Bye, bye Portland_.

"It was me!" We all whip around. "Roddy! What the hell?" I can hardly control myself. But the look he throws me shuts me up at once, and I get it. He is trying to save me. _Oh, shit! This is worse than the sugar mill!_

I want to say something to help Roddy. But I don't even get the chance to argue. "Dr. Lawson it…" I try, but the teacher cuts me off at once. "Shut up, Miss Ramos! And get back to class!" Just as the bell rings, he takes Roddy away before I can do so much as move.

I stand there for a while, rooted to the spot. And it's not until the second bell rings that I remember I'm supposed to be in class. Chem – which I'm supposed to have with Roddy. His stuff is lying on one of the desks in the back and I'm getting more and more anxious, the longer I look at it.

Thoughts flash through my head like bullets and keep me from thinking clearly. _Where is he? Why is he not coming back? He didn't get thrown out, did he? _I can't think. I can't concentrate. And Mr. Capel's constant reprimanding my fidgeting isn't exactly helping either.

Class is almost over when the door bursts open and Roddy walks in. There's a grim look on this face and he doesn't even bother to answer Mr. Capel's question to why he's late. _Honestly, as if that'd matter. There're hardly five minutes of class left_. He just grabs his bag and leaves. Only for a split second I catch his eye and I think I see something beyond the anger. Something sad.

I flinch, guilt washing over me like a bucket full of ice cold water. _He did that for you_, it flashes through my head.


	7. Fast & Furious

**Hello everyone! I can finally post the next chapter. Sorry it took so long, but I don't have much time at the moment. So, read and enjoy... and don't forget to review!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own GRIMM!**

**Puss in Boots**

**Fast & Furious**

I'm outta the room before the bell's stopped ringing. For a split second, I look around wildly. _Where the hell is he?_ I run out of the building, without even pausing to say sorry when I run over Dr. Lawson halfway down the corridor. _Not that I would, even if I had the time_.

Outside the front doors I pause again, looking for Roddy. _He can't have gone far in that short a time_. _Only where is he?_ There's only one road leading away from the school, ergo he must have gone that way. I run about fifty yards through the parking lot – which is packed with cars I could only afford if I killed my rich uncle Don Tomas – and look down the street. No Roddy. _Crap!_

Since I have no idea where Roddy lives and he's way outta sight, there's only one way to catch up with him. The brand-new Porsche Cayman which is parked right next to me. And it is unlocked. The temptation would be too great even if I didn't have to catch up with Roddy. _And yes, that is indeed why I got thrown outta my third school in Portland_.

I throw a quick glance over my shoulder to check no one's there. There isn't. _Good_. I slip into the fancy black sports car before anyone sees me. Just for the record, I would have been able to open it, even if the doors had been locked. And I also would have been able to start up the motor, even if the key hadn't been in the car. But is, so why make things anymore complicated?

I put my foot down and speed outta the parking lot. _Wow! This is pretty awesome!_ It certainly is a lot different from the tuned Mazda RX 8 I used to drive – before my uncle confiscated it. Speeding down the road in that incredible car, I almost forget to look for Roddy. Almost. But not entirely.

Just as I drift around a bend, I spot him. He's carrying the black case of his violin over his shoulder and, I swear, I've never seen anyone look so grim. No wonder though. After all, he just got thrown outta the most expensive private school in Portland.

I hit the brakes. Hard. Too hard for just coming out of a drift. The tires are screeching. But I don't flinch. You get used to stuff like that when you drive in illegal car races. The car comes to a full stop next to Roddy.

I let down the window on the passenger site and call out, "Hi rat boy! Want a ride home?"

The look on Roddy's face is just epic. Anger and suspicion about school are mixing with aw and shock about the car. "Pretty badass, isn't it?" I say, unable to hide my glee. "Where the hell d' you get that?" He asks. I shrug, "In a parking lot – Come on. Get in!"

Cars are starting to arrive behind me slowly building up a queue. _Get a move on, Roddy!_ The last thing I want is my record saying 'causing traffic holdup with a Porsche Cayman'. That would be so embarrassing!

He stares for another second, then shakes his head. _What the heck? Who on earth wouldn't want a ride in this car?!_ "I don't drive stolen cars." He states. I scoff. _Pretty bold statement for someone who usually doesn't miss a single opportunity to get into trouble._ And quite apart from that, "I wasn't expecting you to drive!" I spit. _Honestly as if I'd miss a chance to be behind the wheel of THIS car!_ "Besides, I didn't steal it, I just borrowed it" It is true. I want to put it back in the parking lot – even if it's gonna be the hardest decision of my life.

Roddy doesn't seem too convinced of my honesty, because he puts on a quizzical look and doesn't move an inch. _Great_. The queue behind me has already stretched to a considerable length and a white Mercedes seems to think parking in the middle of a street's inappropriate. They honk the horn. "Shut up, you idiot!" I yell, even though I know he can't hear me. "Come on Roddy! I mean it. I'm driving next to you all the way if I have to!" He pauses again, but then finally decides that I'm not gonna give up anyway and gets in. _Good_.

"Put your seatbelt on!" I say. Roddy stares, "You're not serious, are you?" My face stays expressionless, "Damn serious." I say. _I'm gonna teach that stupid guy in the Mercedes a lesson_. I wait till he's fastened it and the put my foot down. _Bye bye white Mercedes_.

I only speed until we leave the other cars from the school behind us. No need to risk our necks just yet. I'll save that for later. As I turn to ask Roddy where he lives I realize he's clinging desperately to the handholds. He looks petrified. "You alright?" I ask tentatively. It takes a moment for him to speak, when he finally does speak, his voice sounds somewhat shaken, "You don't happen to be in one of the Fast & Furious movies, do ya?" I don't know whether this is supposed to be a compliment or an insult, so I just laugh to mask my self-consciousness. Anyway, I decide it's better to respect the speed limits from now on.

I don't really have time to worry 'bout that though, 'cause something else comes to my mind: I don't have even the slightest idea where to drive. "So anyway, where d' you live?" I ask, turning towards the main street. I can't look at Roddy's face because I have to keep an eye on the traffic, but I can literally feel him tensing up. "Down by the river" he says. _Well thanks, that was helpful_. "Anymore specific?" I ask back, trying hard to keep the sarcasm outta my voice. "Just drop me off on Front Street." _Alright, so it's THAT kinda neighborhood_. I get now, why he doesn't want me to drive him home. He's embarrassed. But still… "You don't live in the warehouse, do you?"

"No" he answers tonelessly. Of course he doesn't. That would have been way too easy. "Then how bad can it be?" _Seriously, I've been in some of the worst living situations, so I know what I'm talking about_.

Roddy on the other hand doesn't know about that. And he shows it alright: "You have no idea!" he snaps at me, "You know nothing about how I live! Not with your rich uncle paying full tution!" I hit the gas. _Now you've gone too far, rat boy!_ The car shoots off at once. "You really think that?" my voice is dangerously close to a hiss. I can feel my blood red fingernails lengthen to claws and I know my eye color is changing. _Great. He's making me woge again_.

Anyway, I'm way outta control. "You really think just because my UNCLE's rich I don't know what it means to be poor? Man, we practically lived on the streets before my stuck-up uncle decided he needed to help!" There's a red light just ahead. I should brake. But I'm not finished yet, "Don't you dare thinking I don't know what that means!" The traffic light is coming closer. I really need break now. "Cat…" Roddy sounds slightly worried now. I'm still speeding. "Cat, please…" I'm still not breaking "No!" I shout at him, "I know what it means to be poor. So, hell, tell me where you live!"

"Fuck, Cat brake! It's 21 Front Street. A trailer down by the river. Sign saying Geiger Pest Control. Brake, oh hell!"

I hit the brakes. The tires are screeching, but we're still moving. There's a truck crossing the intersection just ahead. Time is slowing down. Until… The car comes to a stop just before the white line on the ground. We're both jerked forward and I hit my forehead on the steering wheel.

For a minute we both sit there breathing heavily. Then Roddy speaks up, "Cat," his blue eyes are still wide with shock. "Please don't do that again!" Even though I'm still kinda shaken, it makes me laugh, "I won't unless you keep insulting me!"


	8. Let's play!

**Hi guys (and gals), sorry it took so long! Please dont give up on me, I WILL update as soon as I can - But only if you review! If you don't I'm not gonna hurry with the next update ;)**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own GRIMM! (Though I wish I would!)**

**Puss in Boots**

**Let's Play!**

As I round another bend, I spot the sign Roddy mentioned: Geiger Pest Control. Well, not entirely, the R is missing, so technically it says Geiger Pest Cont ol. "Really, you don't have to drive me to the front door." Roddy growls. _Really, what does he think? I'm not gonna give in now that I'm so close_, "You wish!" I growl back in a good natured sort of way.

I drive up what's probably supposed to be a driveway, but actually resembles more some kind of dirt track. I park the car next to a very old and rather battered looking pickup truck. Behind it there's a very large trailer. With nice, clean curtains behind the windows. But even the largest trailer, with the nicest curtains, is still a trailer.

"Well, it's not that bad." I try to end the awkward silence between us. Roddy scoffs at me, "Not that bad?! It's a trailer, Cat! We live in a trailer!" I have to admit he's right about that. Still he's making me mad. "Alright, it is bad!" I shoot back at him. Frustrated, he punches the dashboard and I almost tell him off for beating the car, when he jumps right out. "Roddy! Wait!" I almost fall out of the car trying to get after him. "Yes, it is bad. But it could be worse!" I shout after him.

He stops dead in his tracks. _Yes, it worked! You know, I've had cases in which I ended up with a black eye because of my honesty. _ Roddy turns. "What?" For once in his life he doesn't sound aggressive. _What a miracle!_ "How could it be worse?" he asks. I smile. Now I've got him. "Well" I grin wickedly at him, "at least you've never lives on the streets." Roddy frowns at me, "What? You've lived on the streets?"

_Oh shit. I did not plan that. Actually I didn't plan to tell him anything_. "Ah well, never mind about that" Of course he doesn't give up just like that. _Dang it! Would have been so easy!_ "You've lived on the streets?" Roddy asks again, and I realize I'll have to tell him. He won't give up before I do. _Crap_.

_I'll just make it short. No babbling_. "My mom died. My dad lost his job. We ended up in a shanty town next to a sugar mill in Mexico." _Yep, that was short_. And still it hurts. I can feel my eyes starting to fill with tears. _Damn_. I clench my jaw and bite my tongue. _No, I'm not gonna cry. I'm not gonna cry_. Roddy's moving closer which is not exactly helping either. I chew on my tongue and stare hard at the dark clouds above us. It doesn't help. A single tear rolls down my cheek.

_Darn it_. I turn away, so Roddy doesn't see it. He does anyway. _Dang it, now he's gonna think I'm week_. Apparently he doesn't. What he does instead takes my breath away. Literally. Because he just grabs me around the waist and kisses me. Hard.

We probably would have stood there for a very, VERY long time if Mother Nature hadn't prevented us. Because just then those dark clouds overhead get into action with the first clap of thunder, immediately followed by pouring rain. Roddy doesn't seem to mind but I do. _It's just natural. I'm a cat, alright!_ Quite apart from that, rain ruins almost any hairstyle.

I pull away. Roddy moans, "What? Shouldn't we be kissing right now?" His expression makes me laugh, "Well, I take it as a compliment that you don't even notice the rain, but seriously, let's move inside!" By 'inside' I actually meant the car, but when Roddy pulls out his keys I decide I'm fine with the trailer too. _Anything to get out of the rain! _

By the time Roddy has unlocked the door we're both soaked. It's not exactly warm inside the trailer either, but at least there's no wind. I shake loose my damp curls. "So," my voice sounds more like a purr than anything else, "Where were we?" I wrap my arms around Roddy's neck and we start kissing again.

Even though Roddy's arms are wrapped tightly around me, I start shivering from cold. _Curse that rain!_ I try to control it but it doesn't work. _Crap_. He pulls away. "Shouldn't we be kissing right now?" I groan. Roddy scoffs, "Yah, sure we should. But it's kinda hard, the way you're shaking!" He's right of course. By now my teeth are chattering and I'm pretty sure my toes are turned to ice. "Cat you need to warm up" I won't admit it, but he's right.

"C'mon. Let's get you warm." He pulls me down the length of the trailer into what, I assume, is his room. Well, technically it's just a bed and closet separated from the rest of the trailer by a screen. _Cozy enough_. "Sit." he orders, motioning towards the bed. I sit. He starts rummaging around in the closet and then pulls out a thick, heavy blanket. He tosses it over to me "Here, that'll keep you warm."

_Sure it will, but personally, I'd rather get back to kissing_. Roddy on the other hand starts looking through the closet again. "What are you doing?" I ask. "Putting on dry clothes" is the answer. _Seems legit_. When Roddy takes off his wet shirt, I gawk. _Wow, those are some abs! _I have to blink twice to clear my head and even then it's still hard to focus on anything else. I mean, it's natural for me to have an eye on more than averagely handsome guys (that's 'cause of my klaustreich hormones), but that guy seriously looks like  
he's photoshopped!

Roddy pulls out a fresh shirt from the closet. "Don't put that shirt on!" the word leaves my mouth before I can stop them. "What?" a sly grin spreads over Roddy's face. "Don't put that shirt on." I repeat tearing my gaze away from his abs to meet his eyes. His grin has morphed to a smirk. "You know what we should do?" he asks. "No." I can tell it's a rhetorical question, but I don't know what he means either. "Get you out of those wet clothes before you freeze to death!" _Oh, I get it. That's what he means_.

Slowly, but steadily a smirk spreads on my face. _Alright, boy, let's play_. I drop the blanket from around my shoulders and – ignoring the cold – kneel on the bed before Roddy. "You really think we should do that?" I purr, running an index finger down his bare chest. He shudders. _Perfect_. I can see his willpower waver. And this time, his gaze drops from my face down into my cleavage. I grin. _Now he's lost_. Softly, I run my fingers along his jaw line. He gulps.

"You know, IF you want to do that, well, you'll have to get me first!" and with that I jump right over to the other side of bed. (_Note to self: do more sports. A leap over a queen-size bed should be easier for you!_)

I don't think he's gonna get me. I just need to trust my cat reflexes – and anyway, I'm not about to make it easy for him. Nope, I'm not worried about that.

But perhaps I'm relying on those reflexes a bit too much and too little on my brains, because next thing I know, I'm lying flat on the bed. With Roddy hovering right above me. _Oh. That's not what I planned_. Roddy smirks at me, "Got ya, chicana!" _Guess he's right about that_. But I don't have time to think much about it, because right then Roddy leans in to kiss me. _God, he tastes so good_.

And that's exactly the moment where I decide to screw it and stay the night. – Just for the record, we do use protection (Don't want to set any bad examples here).


	9. Hard to explain

**Hey guy! Finally exam time's over - you can expect update regularly now. YAY! At least that's what I hope ;)**

**DISCLAIMAER: I do not own GRIMM!**

**Puss in Boots**

**Hard to explain**

The sun's already risen when I wake up the next morning. For a moment I don't know where I am. Only when I find Roddy's arm still wrapped tightly around my waist, I remember. School, Roddy, the car, Roddy, Roddy and me doing… well, you know what, the rave, and again Roddy and me doing the same as before. _What a great night!_

I sigh and snuggle back against Roddy's chest. Everything's so nice and cozy, until… my gaze falls onto the alarm clock on the bedside table. _Oh shit!_ I almost fall out of bed with shock. _Hell, I should be in math right now!_ "Roddy!" I whisper, "Roddy, I need to go" No answer. Well, unless you count indistinct grumbling. I ease his arm off my waist and plant a kiss on his nose. It twitches and for a moment I think I see whiskers. _Oh, rat boy_…

I park the car at exactly the same spot where I found it. Best trick for "borrowing" cars. If the owner reports it stolen, the police will find it in his usual parking spot… and you never get charged. _Yep, that's how it's done_. I even let the key in the car… Just making it authentic.

I turn to leave, but freeze on the spot. _Oh oh, Not good_. The police are there. _How the heck did they find out about that car so fast?_ I just don't get it. Anyway, I'd rather get outta here. Now.

When I want to leave the parking lot, I hear someone call out to me, "Miss! Excuse me, Miss" _Oh crap. What's it this time? What ticked them off?_ I turn around, putting on a fake smile. The guy talking to me is a huge black man. A cop. For a moment my claws shoot out. But I control myself.

"Miss, you left your keys in your car, Miss" _Great. A cop; and he says 'miss' too often_. Well, at least they don't know about the car. I don't show any of my emotions though. "Oh really? Thank you so much!" I exclaim. It sounds so fake it makes me want to puke. I turn back to the car and take the key with me. _Now what?_ I'll have to come back and put it back once they're gone…

I'm back in my trashed room. It's probably the worst mess I've ever seen. Not that I mind the scratches up the furniture, it's just that I can't let anyone come inside. Unless of course I want to scare them off – forever. _Oh well, that's the price you pay if you're a cat_. I give up a hopeless attempt to clean up my room and slump onto the bed. _Hell, housework is so exhausting_.

Just then there's a harsh knock on the door. I frown. _Who the hell would that be?_ I open the door a little and peer through the crack. There are two men. The larger one has his back turned on me blocking my view. "Excuse me, are you Catalina Ramos?" they ask. "Who wants to know?" I know my answer sounds cliché, but I didn't exactly survive the last sugar mill by wearing my heart on my sleeve. Anyway, the huge guy turns and I can smell the answer even before either one of them opens their mouths. Grimm. _Shit!_ "Detectives Burckhardt and Griffin. Can we talk to you for a while?"

"Just a sec!" I call out, slamming the door shut. I run over to the window and open it up. Making sure there's a way of escape, just in case. Only then I let them come inside. _Bad enough that I have to_. _Oh well, I'll just play the good girl_…

It takes me a moment to realize that I've actually seen them before. Detective Griffin is the guy from the parking lot, and the Grimm is, well, the Grimm from the police station. _Oh great, so much for playing the good girl_…

"So you're a student at Von Hamlin?" Griffin asks. I scoff, if I'm not gonna play the good girl, I might as well do things properly. "No. Of course not. I'm a student at Vintage in Napa. That's why I live here!" The sarcasm is so evident in my voice I wonder it's not illegal. Surprisingly Griffin strikes back equally cynic, "Oh, you do think you're smart, don't you?" I glare at him "Well, I AM smart. But I guess that's not why you are here." At this, the Grimm speaks up, "No, we're here to talk about Dr. Lawson. He was found dead in his car this morning."

"WHAT?!" _This was not what I expected. Not at all_. Being raised in a semi-criminal neighborhood, all possible consequences flash through my head. _I had problems with Lawson. I'm a suspect. Wait, no, Roddy had problems with Lawson. He is the prime suspect! Oh shit, we are so screwed_. But first things first: "It wasn't me!" I blurt out. They both frown, "We weren't implying that. We were just going to ask you a few routine questions." I can feel my claws and canines lengthen to an inch, but I control myself. "Alright. Ask your questions." I growl.

"Okay, first of all, since when have you been at this school?" _You had to ask me that, didn't you? Just to annoy me_. "Since last Friday." I try not to sound too hostile, as not to make it any worse, but it's hard. Almost too hard.

"And you were thrown out of your last school?" At this I crack. "Come on, you already know all that! I was at your police station! If you're not gonna ask me anything useful, just leave and stop annoying the crap outta me!" _Alright, that was probably a little too much. But, let's face it, you couldn't have stayed calm either if there were a cop and a Grimm/cop in your room_.

"Whoa! Calm down!" Griffin sounds more annoyed than angry, "Are you always that vicious?" I perfectly snarl at him, but to my enormous surprise it's the Grimm who stops the situation from escalating. "Hank, please." The Grimm's voice is calm, but he makes it clear there's no discussing the matter either. _Thank God! A scratched up cop would be harder to explain than a scratched up closet!_

Then he turns to me and says, "Fine, here's something we don't know: Where were you yesterday between 9 o' clock and midnight?" For a moment I wish we had stuck with the questions they already know. Instantly, a dozen possible answers flash through my head. Some of them aren't even lies (or at least not entirely). But unfortunately all of them involve Roddy. Not good. They're not supposed to know about him. They're gonna think it was him. They're cops, that's what they do. Always.

"That is," I pause. _What am I gonna say now?_ "Hard to explain" I conclude. _Hard to explain? What kind of alibi is that? Oh god. That rat kid must be killing my brains!_ The Grimm frowns, but doesn't dwell on it either. _Thank god! _"Alright then. And did you like Dr. Lawson?" I grunt, "Not especially." I hated that guy. From the first time he gave me detention.

"Any problems with him?" he asks again. "Not especially." But I never speak ill of the dead. Especially if they were murdered and I'm a possible suspect. Again he frowns. "So you say, you didn't like him, but you had no problems with him. And you have no alibi, is that what you're saying?" I scowl. _That's what I just told you! Weren't you listening?_ "Remember when I said that was hard to explain? That has not changed." I snarl. _Oh hell, I really should learn how to rein in my temper when I'm talking to Grimms. Or cops. Or teachers_.

"You do realize this doesn't sound too convincing, don't you?" _Of course I do. I'm not stupid_. Hank narrows his eyes at me, "You are doing this on purpose. You're mocking us." _Yes, I am. But not for the reasons you think_. He shakes his head, "See, either you tell us were you happened to be last night, or you go to jail." My nose twitches, but I stay sullen and silent. I don't want to go to jail. But Roddy saved me from getting thrown out and I owe him. I hate owing people. _All it does is getting you stuck in situations like this!_

The cop and the Grimm both look expectantly at me – As if I was going to spill the beans just because they said I might end up in jail. _Seriously, I'm not that much of a pushover! At least I won't end up as cat chow in prison_. Since I don't say anything though, Hank heaves a sigh and decides to go on with the next question instead, "So, do you at least know anything about a certain Roddy Geiger, or is that hard to explain too?"

"WHAT?!" _How the hell do they know about Roddy?_ "How the hell do you know about Roddy?" The two cops stare at me. "Aha! So you do know him!" _Oh God. Now that's hard to explain!_ I shift uncomfortably. "Well, I kinda do." A triumphant grin spreads on Hank Griffin's face. _Damn, how I'd love to wipe that smile off with my claws!_

I can't give the matter another thought though, because he knows he's got me cornered now, "You kinda know him? That's disappointing. The way Carter was going on about it, we thought he was your boyfriend." I flinch, making my claws shoot out again. "Well, it's…" I'm about to say 'it's kinda like that.' But Hank cuts me off, "Don't tell me it's hard to explain!" He exclaims. "It's not," I hiss, "I was at his place yesterday. All night." That's the only upside of them knowing about Roddy. I don't have to go to jail.


	10. Ratted Out

**Hi guys :D Here's the next chapter! I hope you like it, but I can't read your minds, so I would appreciate if you'd Review ;) Well anyway, read and enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own GRIMM!**

**Puss in Boots**

**Ratted Out**

"Roddy! Roddy, where are you?" I shout, banging against the door of the trailer at the same time. No one opens. _Dang it! Where is that rat when you need him, eh?_ I kick at an empty can lying on the ground next to me. It hurts my toe. _Crap!_ I take a deep breath trying to clear my mind. _Where would I go if I was Roddy?_

I never get to answer that question, because that same moment something huge crashes into my right side, knocking me clean off my feet. My head bumps hard against a stone in the ground and I'm probably lucky to wear my hair in a bun today, because otherwise my skull would have been cracked open. Even so I'm dazed for a couple of seconds. _Ouch, that was some blow! _

I blink up slowly at the person who knocked me down. If my head wasn't spinning like crazy, I'd probably be tearing him limb from limb right now. But with my eyes still slightly unfocused, it takes me a moment to recognize the pointed rat face above me.

"Roddy? What the hell are you doing?" I try to lift my hand to assess any possible damage to my head, but he presses it down against the ground. _What the heck is he up to now?_ There's a fierce glint in his blue rat eyes and his claws dig deep into my arms. "Roddy? What-", I start to ask, but he cuts me off. "You told on me!" He snarls – actually snarls! _What the-?! I thought that was my specialty!?_

But that's not the point. "I did what?" I spit back at him just viciously. "You told on me! You told the police about me! And now my dad's in prison!" I stare at him. _No fair!_ I almost went to jail for not telling on him, and now he's accusing me of ratting him out! That is so not fair!

Rage is building up rapidly inside me, flowing through my veins like poison. This time I have no fancy sports car though. My fingernails curly into long, sharp claws and my canines lengthen to an inch. Fur is sprouting on my face and I know my eyes just turned a vivid shade of bright green. _How come every time I meet Roddy, he makes me woge?_

"So that's what you think of me. You think I'd turn you in. Just like that." It is not a question. That's the downside of being a cat. People always think you're the bad guy. Or gal in my case. I hate it. And I hate Roddy for doing just the same thing as everybody else. My jaw clenches. I thought he was different. Clearly I was wrong. My mistake.

"Of course it was you. Who else would have known? I thought you of all people…" This is too much. I can take only so many insults on one day and now he's gone too far. I crack. I snarl at Roddy viciously. He might be stronger than me as a human, but a rat is no match for a cat, really. Especially, not a cat like me. In a flash of claws and teeth I'm on top of him. "Roddy, I think I made a mistake." I pause, weighing my words. _What would be the most offensive and insulting way to put it?_ "I thought you were smart; that you wouldn't think I'm a bitch just because I'm a cat. But apparently, you're just as stuck up and biased as everyone else!"

I look him straight in the eyes. They're cold as steel. And that's when I realize, he's not going to change his mind, no matter what I say. My hiss wavers, and then dies. I flop back, my claws and fangs retreating back into my skin. The fur vanishes. I'm back to human. _Not good_.

For a moment or two I just lie there on the cold damp ground next to him. "You're an idiot. A freaking idiot." I mutter, addressing myself just as much as Roddy. He snorts, "Perhaps I was. For trusting you!" I flinch. _That was not necessary!_

I get up slowly and start to walk away. Just before I get in the car – a silver BMW Z4 this time – I turn once more and say, "Did it ever occur to you, that Carter and his friends might have been asked about you as well?"

I stand there watching him for a while and I swear, I've never seen anyone's expression go from 'I despise you' to 'oh shit, I'm screwed' so quickly. It almost makes me laugh. Almost, but not entirely. "Thanks for not telling on me either." I say, my voice sounding hoarse and raspy, "I would have been screwed."

And with that I turn to drive away. Or at least, that's what I'm intending to do. I don't exactly get very far – Two streets to be precise – before I break down. Not the car, just me. And I do something that I haven't done properly since my mom died nearly 7 years ago: I cry. And it's not the a-single-tear-rolls-down-my-cheek sort of crying either; it's a complete with sobbing and anything. I hate it. I don't get, why people say it's relieving. If you ask me, it's just plain pathetic. That's why I don't do it – usually.

It takes me almost twenty minutes to calm down. And I probably wouldn't even have if a frantic squeaking outside the car hadn't distracted me from my misery.

Now, to understand this you need to know that squeaking always has an effect on Klaustreichs. It awakes the instinct to hunt. Usually this is not exactly soothing, but then again I usually don't cry either. And being a fierce hunter is always better than being pathetic and heartbroken. Always. No exceptions.

The squeaking is faint at first, but getting louder by the minute. And very annoying, I should probably mention. I lift my head, which had been lying on the steering wheel why I was crying, trying to see where the noise comes from. Nothing. I frown. _The squeaking can't come from nowhere, can it?_

I don't get the idea to look over the car door until the first rat falls right over the edge (Yet another proof that crying is bad for one's brains if you ask me). But when I do peek over it I almost faint with shock and surprise.

Rats of every color imaginable surround the car. And not just that, they're trying to climb in. One even finds its way onto my lap. I hiss fiercely. They scatter, chaos breaking out among the rodents, but they find their way back almost immediately.

_Great. What do I do now? I can't eat them all now, can I?_ It's not like I'm scared of rats, but they're not exactly my favorite animals either. And they certainly don't make for a good dish. They don't have enough muscle on them.

The rats' squeaking is constantly getting more persistent – a fact that is not improving my ability to think clearly. I sit there trying to decide what to do about the sudden rat plague when one of them scrambles up onto the steering wheel. It's holding a note in its mouth.

Of course: Roddy. I slap my forehead so hard it hurts. He was the one who sent the rats, why else would the attack the car like that? The rat on the other hand is getting more and more frantic the longer I wait. It squeaks desperately, but scurries off as soon as I take the note from it. _Weird critters, rats are_.

I read the note. It says TURN.


	11. Chaotic Lovelife

**Hello everyone! I hope you like this chapter. As always, review ) Anyway, I would like to thank Miles-tails-prowler for being the only one who actually does Review.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own GRIMM!**

**Puss in Boots**

**Chaotic Lovelife**

"Turn? Turn what?" If this is supposed to be a joke, it's not funny. Not even remotely. There's nothing on the back of the note so it's probably not the paper I'm supposed to turn. And still, it got my interest. I tell you, distraction works much better than crying if you need relief.

And so I start turning things. The note, the steering wheel… I even upturn a one of the rats, but nothing happens. _Great. This is not improving my mood. Or wait, actually it is. Anger is better than sadness. Always_. "What? What the hell am I supposed to turn?!" I shout out angrily after ten minutes of turning things fruitlessly.

The music stops. _Music? Where the hell did that come from? And how come I didn't notice it before?_ There's only one answer to this: _Crying reduces brain function to an almost comatose state_. I should not repeat it ever again.

"Yourself. You're supposed to turn yourself!" I whip around. Roddy is there. _Oh hell, that non-existent constant vigilance of mine explains why I got caught in the dean's office at my last school_.

"What are you doing here?" I snarl at him, jumping over the car door. _At last back to my good old, bad-tempered self. That's what I call relief!_ Now please don't get me wrong, I am glad to see him. Only I'm not about to show it. He deserves a little punishing after what he said. Just to make a point.

"Cat, I… I don't know how to say this…" _Yes, you do. You just don't want to admit you were an idiot_, _that's what it is_. I fold my arms over my chest and raise my eyebrows at him. I'm also thinking about tapping my foot, but decide that would be exaggerated.

"Cat, I," he steps forward but stops when I hiss at him. "I'm sorry!" _And he should be_. But I can hardly deny the relief washing over me like spring rain. That was EXACTLY what I wanted to hear. But I'm not gonna admit it. Not just yet. Instead, I purse my lips, pretending to be thinking. I have to work very hard not to show my glee at Roddy's worried expression. _Serves him right, the idiot!_

"Alright," I say after a while and Roddy steps forward as if to hug me, but I stop him. "BUT, if you do that again," at this I gesture vaguely at the rats that still cover the ground around us, "I will eat you!" This is not even a lie. He might taste disgusting, but no one – not even Roddy – plays pranks like that on me twice.

Nevertheless a smile breaks out on Roddy's face. He steps forward – this time I don't scare him off by hissing – and pulls me into a passionate kiss. _Man, if only I hadn't borrowed a convertible today… this would be the perfect moment for makeup sex!_

I tiptoe up the stairs to the third floor. It's way after curfew and I probably should just have stayed at Roddy's for the night. Problem is, I can't be late for another class, or else I'll get detention. Not that I mind detention, but my uncle does. And I mind him sending me back to Mexico.

Just as I reach the third floor my phone buzzes. I flinch. _Why the hell didn't I turn that off before I tried to sneak in after midnight?! _Fortunately no one seems to have heard anything. But then again, they are supposed to be fast asleep by now.

Since no one stirs, I take the time to check my cell. I've got four texts from my uncle Don Tomas. _Not good._ The first one says, "Meet me at 9 in the cafeteria", the second one, "Where are you?" (trust my uncle to always spell things out, even in texts). The third one, "Not amused". And the one I just got, "We shall see about this". I gulp. _This is bad. Really bad_.

When I reach my room, there's light shining from underneath the door. _How could I leave the light on? It was bright day when I left._ Turns out I didn't. SOMEONE turned it on while I was away. And that someone is now sitting at my desk, leafing through my chem notes. Don Tomas. _Great. Now what?_

When I slip through the door, he looks up. "Well, hello Catalina. What a nice surprise!" _Surprise? You're in my apartment. How can this be a surprise?_ "I take it you have a good explanation for your absence." His voice is as cold and icy as the peak of the Pico Orizaba (highest mountain in Mexico). "Well, I was kinda busy." _So much for making up the best excuses ever_. Don Tomas raises an eyebrow at me. "That I can see." He says looking pointedly at a hickey on my neck. "It's not what it looks like!" I say, making another feeble attempt to defend myself. "Not what it looks like? Oh, I'm sure it's exactly what it looks like. How else would you explain stealing cars and hooking up with some rat?"

I freeze. _How the heck does he even know about that?_ I mean sure, his business is "knowing" stuff – about bankers, high politicians, and mafia bosses mostly – but I never thought that actually involved me. I mean, it's not like I ever did anything worse than borrow a fancy car.

"And then there's always the fact that you obviously destroyed the apartment I'm paying for." He continues, motioning vaguely at the ruined furniture. "I didn't do that on purpose!" I wail, "You know I sometimes lose control!" He simply shakes his head. "Clearly. Or else you wouldn't spend so much time testing my patience." I wince. I'm not trying to test his patience, I just attract trouble. It's not my fault.

I sigh deeply. "I suppose you're not here to talk about furniture, are you?" I ask, trying to change the subject. "Of course not. I am here to bring reason to your obviously more than chaotic love life." I stare. Whatever I expected, it was not THAT. "Chaotic love life?" I echo. If you ask me, that is going a bit far. I mean, I won't deny that some of the guys I dated had a… dubious character – and job, I might add – but Roddy's not like that. He might be impulsive and stupid at times, but he sure isn't a criminal.

"Indeed." my uncle confirms. Then a resigned look comes over his face and he mutters "I suspected you'd turn out like your mother, running off with anyone. But a rat, seriously? Couldn't you just have stuck to the old ways and waited for a nice balam boy?" _No. I couldn't. Not if my life depended on it_. He shakes his head exasperatedly. "Anyway, that relationship must be ended. It's too much of a bad influence."

"A what?!" I blurt out before remembering that it's the dead of night and I'm supposed to be quiet. "A bad influence?" I continue in a lower voice, "He's not a bad influence for me. Actually, he's a better influence than all other guys I've ever dated!"

"Oh, I wasn't implying that HE is a bad influence for YOU." Don Tomas answers, "YOU are the bad influence for HIM!" _Ouch. That hurt_. But thinking about it, it might actually be true. _Not good_. "I want you to end it before anything bad happens." Don Tomas says, gets up and leaves.

I, on the other hand, am so dumbfounded, I can't even move, let alone defend myself. I sit there, staring at the blank space before me for almost a minute, before coming back to life. I frown, thinking for a moment. Don Tomas might be the one who decides about my school, my residence and my car, but I won't let him decide EVERYTHING in my life.


	12. Cat, Rat, Dog - Well, wolf actually

**Hello everyone! Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it :) Don't forget to review! The Wesen's names might be a Little different from what you know, because the German series actually uses different names (they make no sense if you translate them from the English series). Just so you know ;)**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own GRIMM or HARRY POTTER (that's where the Headline came from)!**

**Puss in Boots**

**Cat, Rat, Dog - Well, wolf actually**

There's a knock on the door. I jump. _Who the hell would that be? It's the dead of night!_ It can't be anyone from school, it's not Roddy and it certainly won't be my uncle ('cause he wouldn't knock). _But then who else would visit me in the middle of the night?_

My eyes narrow. There only two possibilities: either it's some criminal from my past asking for a favor, or – which is probably even more likely – it's some cop from my present asking for information. Either way, it's not gonna be pleasant. I get up with a long groan. _Let's just hope it's not the Grimm_ _again_.

As it turns out when I open the door, it's neither one. It's worse. A Blutbader. _OH SHIT!_ I jump back slamming the door shut. Or at least I try to. Because the tall, bearded guy with the flannel shirt already pushed through. Before I know what I'm doing, I'm up on top of the shelf (which is creaking considerably under my weight, even though I weigh hardly more than 110 lbs). I hiss. And no, I'm not overreacting. I just don't appreciate wolves, or dogs, Blutbader, or any other canines in my apartment.

The hairy guy on the other hand snorts at my reaction, "Don't worry cat girl just because I'm a Blutbader, doesn't mean I'm gonna take a bite outta you!" I am not convinced and therefore continue to hiss. "Gosh, girl, calm down! I'm not gonna eat you!" _Yeah right, and I'm the Queen of England!_ When I don't come down, the guy just shrugs and closes the door. _Not good_. "Alright. You don't have to come down to talk, but it would definitely be more comfortable…" and then, "Mind if I sit on the bed?" _Mind? Of course I do mind! If he sheds half as much as my aunt Camila's dog, there's gonna be hair all over the place!_ But then again, there's nothing really I can do about it from up here. And so he sits. _Great_.

"Well, introductions first: I am Monroe and I am a Blutbader." _No, you don't say? I thought you were a Dalmatian puppy_. _Seriously, does that guy think I'm stupid?_ Even my fear of werewolf-like predators can't overcome my sarcasm, it just comes naturally to me, "And you really think THAT is going to help bringing me down from this shelf? Gosh, you need to visit one of those courses where they teach you how to motivate people!"

He lets out a laugh that sounds more like a bark than anything else, "Nick said you were a smartass, but I guess I forgot the difference between an ordinary smartass and a Klaustreich!" If that's supposed to be his way of insulting me, he just failed pretty badly, 'cause I don't see what's wrong with being a badass smartass. Especially, since he's the one who came into my apartment and sat on my bed without permission.

On the other hand he probably doesn't need my permission if he's gonna eat me anyway. _Alright Cat, think positive. What's the upside of this situation?_ Nothing comes to mind, except… _This is how Roddy must have felt when he found out I was a cat. Oh, I guess I owe him an apology then_…

"So," He clears his throat awkwardly, "back to business. Nick said…" Again my mouth is quicker than my brain, and I interrupt him, "Who the hell is Nick? Quit telling me about people I don't know!" (_What the hell is wrong with me? – He's a Blutbader, I am not supposed to interrupt him!_) He stares. Probably not used to being interrupted by anything smaller than a Löwe – A fact that will most likely not lengthen my life.

But unexpectedly the wolf, instead of attacking me, actually explains, "Nick, the Grimm. He's the cop investigation on your teacher's murder, remember?!" Oh. That actually makes sense, I guess. A Grimm and a Blutbader being in cahoots with each other. Guess everyone's after me lately. "And so the Grimm told the wolf to go after the cat. What is this? Some kind of complot against the feline population of Portland?!"

Monroe snorts. "You really don't get it, do you? I am here to help you!" I roll my eyes, "Sure you are. Because that's what Blutbaders do; helping cats with their daily lives, because the Grimms told them so. Don't you realize how stupid that story sounds?!"

He doesn't. Instead, he sighs deeply and buries his face in his hands. "God, I thought it was bad when the rat kid didn't talk, but you are actually ten times worse!" I scowl, "Oh, so I am – Wait, what did you just say? You talked to Roddy?!" I almost fall off the shelf when the realization strikes me. Reinigen are at the bottom of the food chain, Blutbaders are at the top. _Not good_. "What did you do to him?" I gasp.

"I ate him for dinner." At this I do fall off the shelf. I am not often frightened, but at this very moment, I admit, I am scred to death. Terrified I scramble into the next corner. Monroe on the other hand just laughs. "Don't worry, cat girl, I was just kidding! I wouldn't eat rat, I'm a vegetarian." _What the heck?! Is he trying to tell me that a Grimm – who also happens to be a cop – sent a vegetarian Blutbader to help a cat, who is a possible suspect in a homicide? Oh hell, this story is getting weirder by the minute!_

I am so dumbstruck, that I even forget to hiss for a moment. The wolf uses my silence and starts talking so fast, I can hardly follow him, "The point is Nick believes you. Neither you or the rat kid killed that teacher, but someone is trying to frame you." _Oh what a genius! How did he figure that out?_ "And he sent me to tell you, to stop being a stupid, immature little bitch – well, that weren't his exact words, but you get the point." _Oh I do get it. He just called me stupid!_ "Anyway, quit acting like a criminal and use your potentials." Again I roll my eyes. _Thank you so much for that life changing advice, wolf, I already feel like I'm a much better person now!_ But then he says something that actually does change the world for me, "Carter and his friends are only going to be more satisfied if you both get thrown off the school."

"Carter? What does Carter have to do with this?" I ask. Monroe looks astounded. "He's the one who killed the teacher. Didn't you know?" No, I didn't. Well, actually Roddy told me he suspected him all along, but I didn't really think that Carter had it in him, much less Marvin and Trey. _Well, who would have guessed that_…

But then another thought strikes me, "Wait, you didn't tell Roddy what you just told me, did you?!" That would be so bad indeed! Roddy's a stick o' dynamite even without random people telling him to use his potential – music in his case – along with the name of the guy who tried to get him framed as a murderer. The Blutbader looks bewildered, "Of course I did. I told him the exact the same thing as I just told you." Then he puffs out his chest and continues, "And I really think I made a difference for him!"


	13. Straight Ahead

**Hi everyone! I finally managed to upload the last chapter. I hope you like it! Thank you to everyone who read this story! You can use it as inspiration or what ever you see fit ;) And if it's not too much of an effort for you, I would really appreciate some final reviews!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own GRIMM or HUNGER GAMES (if you can find the quote ;) !**

**Puss in Boots**

**Straight Ahead**

I'm outta the room before Monroe can do so much as blink. _Made a difference for him! Seriously, how dense can you be?!_ Roddy's gonna explode like a pound of TNT after that!

"Wait! What are you doing? Where are you going?" the wolf calls after me. "I'll fix what you messed up!" I snarl at him. He looks hurt. For a split second I feel almost sorry for him – Poor wolf, doesn't know anything about people – but then I decide I don't have time to worry about the Blutbader. There are more pressing problems on hand right now.

I pause when I reach the parking lot. There's not a lot of cars to chose from at this time of day (or rather this time of night), but I manage to get a nice Audi TT. When I speed out of the parking lot however, a new question comes to my mind. _Where would I go if I was Roddy?_ To be honest, I have no idea. But I have to find him – Who knows what he's gonna do if he doesn't calm down. I wreck my brain for an answer, but nothing comes to mind.

After a while of fruitless thinking I start to panic. _Not good_. Most things won't get you killed but fear will. Especially if you're driving a car with too many hp. I take a deep breath trying hard not to freak out. _Alright, he doesn't have a car, so it can't be too far from the trailer_… _"Ah, but that never stopped you, did it?"_ says the nasty little voice at the back of my head. I chose to ignore it. Roddy isn't me. And my influence isn't that bad. Yet. _Alright, so probably Front Street, or at least that area. What places do I know on Front Street? None. No, wait! There's the warehouse!_

I take a sharp u-turn and speed in the opposite direction. He might not even be there, but it's the best guess I have.

When I get there, there's already a car parked outside the building. An Audi, similar to mine. I frown. _Doesn't Trey drive that kind of car?_ I'm pretty sure he does (_yes, I know it's weird for a girl to pay more attention to cars than clothes, but that's just what I do_). How on earth did Roddy manage to get them here though?

That's when I hear the music – Party Rock Anthem to be exact. _Oh, of course!_ How could I possibly forget that he's not just Roddy, the violin prodigy without friends, but also DJ Retchit Kat, the famous raver with all the right friends in all the right places? I roll my eyes. _That guy DOES have all the qualities you need as a criminal_.

I enter the ware house and follow the sound of the music down into the basement. When I'm halfway down the stairs the song stops all of a sudden and is instantly replaced by something classic – which sounds like randomly scratching a bow over a violin to me. Other than that, a frantic squeaking is piercing my ears. _Gosh, this can't be good… Wait a sec, I know that kind of squeaking!_ Sure enough, as I look down a dozen or so rats scramble across the floor. I shudder. _Seriously, what is it with Roddy and manipulating rodents? I don't control felines either!_

By instinct I follow the small critters further down. As I reach the bottom of the stairs two new sounds reach my ears: Panicked screams and shouts from just ahead, and sirens from outside. _Man, I tell you, super sensitive hearing can be a blessing and a curse at the same time!_

Usually the sound of sirens would send me running in the opposite direction as fast as I can, but this time something hold me back. Roddy. _What if they catch him?_ After all, I don't know what he's doing to Carter and his friends with those rats, but I'm pretty sure it's illegal. Indecision, however, gets me precisely nowhere. Neither to Roddy, nor away from the cops. So I stand there, glued to the spot. _Gosh, life was so much easier as a single!_

Before I reach a decision, two cops come barreling down the stairs, knocking me clean off my feet, as they push past me. _Ouch! Don't you watch where you're going?!_ I snarl as they pass, but at least their rough passage makes the decision easier for me. It's not me who they're after, so there's no harm in going ahead. _Good_.

I sprint down the narrow hallway after the men. Just as I round a corner, I hear gunshots ahead. I cringe as my ears start buzzing_. I tell you, do never ever fire a gun in the basement when someone with sensitive hearing is around! They will not like it at all!_

Even so, I woge to put on an extra spurt of speed, as rats rush past me, heading in the opposite direction. Personally I feel like that would be the wise thing to do, but the thought of Roddy keeps me running towards him.

When I reach a huge storage room, I see the cops kneeling on the ground next to Carter and his friends. I snort. _Seriously, how can rats freak you out like THAT?_ There's no sign of Roddy though. My eyes flash back to the Grimm. _He wouldn't have hurt him, right? Not after what the Blutbader told me, and not with his partner around_. At least that is what I hope.

The only other explanation for Roddy's absence is the tunnel, leading straight ahead. _Great, more running_. To my enormous relief, however, the passage way ends after a couple o' feet in a dead end. Roddy is there, sitting on some pipes running along the wall. _Thank God!_

Before I can do anything though, I hear hurried footsteps behind me, and shrink into the shadows. The Grimm appears in the doorway. _Good thing my black fur makes me all but invisible in the dark!_ A grim smile crosses Roddy's face. "You want my weapon?" he asks sarcastically, holding out his violin. _The idiot, does he never get tired of challenging the wrong people?!_

The Grimm on the other hand smiles genuinely, "No. You might be an idiot and you almost got yourself into serious trouble, but you're definitely not a criminal!" Roddy and I both stare at him. The Grimm nods, "Since no one got hurt, you are as free a person as anyone, and so is your dad. But remember; do not throw away your talent, like you almost did tonight!" I frown, it is not likely that the cop is on our side, yet I'm no longer sure if this automatically means he's on the other one. Somehow, this whole situation is confusing me a great deal. And the Grimm chooses to make it even worse my turning towards me and saying, "And you, stop getting into trouble! It won't do any good to either of you!"

And with that he is gone.

For a moment Roddy and I both stare after him, too dumbstruck to move. "Wow," I say, still staring after the Grimm, "That was weird. Hella weird!" Roddy simply nods.

And thus we continue staring after the Grimm until, quite suddenly, a new thought strikes me, "He is right!" I blurt, suddenly angry, "You are an idiot!" Roddy stares, "What!?" There's an edge to his voice that should probably keep me from going on but, as always, I just can't stop myself, "You're an idiot! A freaking idiot! What did you think you were doing, eh?!" _Nothing probably. He was just mad_. "How the heck could you do that?! You could have gone to jail for that!" I punch my finger into his chest to stress my words. "You…"

I pause, thinking of other arguments, why he should not have pulled off that rat thing again. I mean, it's not like I care about Carter and his friends but the thought of Roddy going to jail – and therefore leaving me – is just too much right now (I know, that does sound wimpy!). For some reason Roddy seems to look right through this, though.

A smug grin spreads over his face. "Cat," he says, snaking his arms around my waist, "I love you!" _Whoa, I did not expect that!_ It scares me. Pretty badly actually. _What does he think he's doing?_ Since I don't know what to say to this, I just stand frozen until a sudden squeaking brings me back to my senses. "I told you, I'd eat you if you did that rat thing again!" I hiss, but it's a soft, pathetic kind of hiss.

Roddy sighs, "Aren't you supposed to say 'I love you, too!' now?" _I guess he's right_. I laugh, relaxing a little, "Roddy, sometimes you are so infuriating, I don't know why I even put up with you. But yes, I do love you too!" And then we kiss.

Did I mention that I tend to woge when I'm emotional? Because, yep, that's what happens right now. Only this time Roddy doesn't run for it. And again I realize: I could live a thousand lifetimes, and still not deserve him.

And for that I love him.


End file.
